


The Fashion Yokai

by luckystars1015



Category: Nurarihyon no Mago | Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan
Genre: F/M, Fluff, fashion - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 07:10:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18441587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckystars1015/pseuds/luckystars1015
Summary: A yokai specializing in the fashion trends of both the human and demon world has come to the mansion. Unfortunately for Tsurara, the yokai Yui has got her eyes on her. While Tsurara is forced into embarrassing outfits that she would never be caught dead in, a pair of ruby red eyes watch in silence.





	The Fashion Yokai

The Nura mansion was currently basked in the soft orange glow of the sunset. Tsurara was sweeping leaves in front of the gates when she saw a figure approaching the mansion. Switching to high alert mode, she looked at the figure with caution. 

Upon further examination, she noticed that the person appeared as if she had just stepped out of a woman’s fashion magazine. She was dressed fairly extravagant in a white pencil skirt that reached her knees with many jewels adorning her. She was wearing black sunglasses and white leather gloves and carrying what was most likely a design name bag. It was such a Western look in the traditional Japanese home that Tsurara was momentarily stupefied by the foreignness. 

As the figure approached Tsurara, she took off her sunglasses and shook her sleek black hair out of her face. That’s when Tsurara realized that the person was not a person at all. Her eyes were golden and her pupils were slit. She was a demon, and a fashionable one at that. 

“How may I help you?” Tsurara asked nervously.

“Hello, darling. My name is Yui and I am a world renowned yokai in the fashion industry. With the recent revival of the Nurarihyon clan, I was wondering if I could have the pleasure of doing business here,” Yui spoke eloquently.

“Y-yes. Right away, Yui-san,” Tsurara then hastily ran for the master. With her young master nowhere in sight, she opted to notify Nurarihyon instead.

“Master! There’s a yokai fashion designer who would like to do business with our clan!”

That sure piqued his interest. Suddenly, he was lost in his world where everyone of the clan’s demons was wearing something cooler than the “fear” stamped on all their clothes. Smiling widely, he welcomed her in.

 

“Thank you very much,” Yui said. As she stepped within the gates, she looked around and silently scouted all of the demons in sight. 

 

“Hmm... I was wondering if I could use one of yours as a model,” she asked.

 

The first leader nodded sagely and gave her the thumbs up.

 

Glancing up and down at Tsurara and simultaneously walking in a circle around her, Yui motioned her approval.

 

“Yes, this one will do.”

 

Tsurara immediately waved her hands up in the air in refusal. With a light blush on her face, she uttered “N-no, I possibly couldn’t have such an honor.”

 

Slyly, Yui said, “Oh come on now. Don’t you have a man’s attention you want to catch?”

 

That hit the mark. Tsurara froze and her face lit up with a blush redder than a tomato. 

 

“Okay!” she shouted and ran towards one of the guest rooms.

 

“It’s so fun to mess with the shy ones,” Yui giggled. Mentally applauding her business persuasion skills and finer woman’s intuition, Yui quickly strode across the yard to the where Tsurara was. Yui opened and slid close the shoji doors before looking at Tsurara once again. 

 

“Now let’s get started,” she said as she grasped Tsurara’s obi. 

 

“W-what are you doing?” Tsurara screeched as she struggled to get away.

 

Yui smirked and replied, “well you must take clothes off before you put new clothes on. Trust me honey. My method works and I don’t have all the time in the world here.”

 

Outside, Rikuo’s attention was caught by the sound of his aide’s distressed voice and one he hadn’t recognized. Immediately, he opened the shoji doors and was awarded with a rather unexpected sight. 

 

A strange Western-styled woman was trying to pull Tsurara’s obi off while said woman was desperately trying to escape her clutches.

 

“Hey! What are you doing to Tsurara?!” Rikou shouted and was about to rush to the Yuki Onna’s side when suddenly, the obi came undone. 

 

What happened in the next few moment was something that Tsurara was never going to live down and something that Rikuo was never going to forget. 

 

The obi’s unwounding led to the momentum that had Tsurara spinning towards Rikuo and landing right into his warm arms. It reminded Rikuo of one of the pranks he had wanted to try on Tsurara when they were little, but was forced to abandon when Zen bonked him on the head and told him that only perverts did that. 

 

As the scene before him unraveled, no pun intended, he could see exactly why that was so. Tsurara’s furisode was slipping down her shoulders to expose the milky white skin usually hidden beneath all the layers. Before he could stop himself from looking below her rather tantalizing collarbones, the last remnants of dusk hid behind the horizon and much to Tsurara’s and his dismay, Nighttime Rikuo made his appearance.

 

Without the same decency and embarrassment that his Daytime self had, his yokai self had no trouble looking further down Tsurara’s body with his ruby red eyes. As he lingered upon Tsurara’s chest, if he had had any reaction, nothing upon his stoic face reflected it. However, with the fashion demon's acute eye for color, she could distinguish a faint blush of pink on the yokai's handsome face. 

 

Tsurara, on the other hand, was completely paralyzed, wondering which god she had angered to bring this misfortune down on her. Her face had erupted in a blush so red that it left the other occupants of the room pondering if there was any blood for the rest of her body.

 

“Wow, I forgot how these worked,” Yui said nonchalantly in regards to the furisode, “I must apologize for that. It’s been awhile since I’ve worked in Japan. About a hundred or so years.”

 

Noticing that neither yokai was paying any attention to her, Yui humphed and thought of a great idea to bring the focus to the matter at hand: making a more beautiful and more pleasing looking world. With a snap of her fingers, the bottom of Tsurara’s furisode was dissipating in a glowing white light. Fast. 

 

Tsurara snapped out of her trance and fumbled around to keep both the top and bottom of her furisode from coming apart. 

 

To Rikuo, she begged “Master, don’t look!” and to Yui, she cried “What are you doing?!?!” 

 

“I’m trying to get this show on the road,” the fashion yokai retorted impatiently. “Now are you going to let me dress you up like a doll or what?”

 

From the male yokai’s perspective, he wouldn’t have minded if the show kept going on as his eyes followed the disappearing furisode and trailed up Tsurara’s porcelain-like legs and her soft thighs. When did he become such a lecher? He absentmindedly wondered if he was a bit drunk again. No, after the last fiasco, all the males made sure that ultra-strong Yokai liquor would never be anywhere close to his lips. Surprisingly, this was all just him.

 

“Fine!” Tsurara hurriedly acquiesced and with a snap of Yui’s fingers, her furisode immediately transformed into a light blue strapless summer dress that reached Tsurara’s knees. The dress had white ruffles at the hem and snowflakes slowly growing smaller from the bottom of the dress up. A straw sun hat with a yellow ribbon wrapped around it also poofed into existence on top of her head. 

 

“Hmmm... while this does fit your figure fairly snugly, you’re a Yuki Onna and this doesn’t fit your style at all,” Yui, as true to her profession, remarked. 

 

Rikuo had a whole different opinion on the matter.  He thought that she looked cute. Better than cute. She looked beautiful. With Tsurara grasping at the hem of her dress and shyly averting eye contact with her master, Rikuo began to appreciate the fashion yokai's work. 

 

Realizing that the white and black haired yokai was still standing there speechless with his arms folded into his yukata, Yui smiled knowingly and inwardly thought, “Ah~ young love. The fruit of all creations.”

 

Tsurara was still trying to regain her composure after what had had to be one of the most embarrassing moments of her life. Well, it was in the top five, right under the time she accidently walked into her master taking a bath. Twice. Both forms. 

"Well, should we continue Tsurara-chan or would you like to hear this gentleman's opinion? I assume this is whom you want to impress," Yui deviously remarked. 

 

Before Rikuo could get a word in, Tsurara loudly exclaimed "NO!!" and quickly slid the shoji door shut. Using her ice powers, she froze the crack between the door and wall shut to prevent any other intruders. As much as she loved and respected her master, this was something she could not allow him to see. 

 

Rikuo smirked. On the contrary, this was exactly what he wanted to lay his eyes upon. Cloaking himself in his fear, he became invisible to all eyes and easily passed through the shoji doors. He settled himself in the front of the room and sat cross legged in order to get comfortable. He took out his grandpa's pipe and began to smoke it. This was a show he was sure going to enjoy.

 

Yui started preparing the room by willing various lights and a mirror to come into existence. 

 

"Now, let's see how you look if you were a princess back in Japan's olden days," Yui remarked and flicked her wrist to transform Tsurara's current dress into an extremely complex and highly elegant kimono. It was colored dark blue with royal blue designs with gold lining. 

 

Tsurara was completely stunning. Even Yui acknowledged how befitting the dress was on her. Rikuo's attention was completely monopolized by Tsurara's beauty. He wondered if this was how his grandfather felt when he met his beloved Yohime. The hitched breath. The fastened heartbeat. The inability to speak even if he wanted to speak. 

 

A blush was still flourishing on Tsurara's face as she covered her mouth with one hand in her kimono sleeve and glanced upon her reflection. 

 

"My, my. I must say. I have quite outdone myself this time. But the show’s only begun,” Yui flamboyantly cheered.

 

Tsurara’s constant surprise and embarrassment to the new clothes eventually morphed into wonder and happiness a few outfits in. Even Rikuo had a small smile on his face as he watched Tsurara. Her happiness had always been contagious. On the brightest days or the darkest, bloodiest battlefields, he could always rely on her smile. 

 

After a while, Yui had run out of clothes Tsurara could try until she scraped her mind for any last ideas. 

 

“Oh! That’s right! I just had a new order come in from America! What was it called? The ‘Bunny Girl’ outfit!” Yui exclaimed.

 

Tsurara, with her oh-so-innocent mind, thought it was a mere fluffy bunny suit and naively agreed to try it on. 

 

With a snap of Yui’s finger, long and white bunny ears poofed on top of Tsurara’s head. Lightly touching them with her fingers, Tsurara realized that the ears could feel her touch as if it were an extension of her own body. 

 

Before she knew it, her current dress, an English maid’s outfit, had transformed into a high waisted, tight fitting, leotard with fishnet stocking which barely covered her legs. The outfit had emphasized her chest as well as the top dipped down quite past the line appropriate for her. Her shoulders and arms were left exposed for all the world to see, or in this case, unbeknownst to her, just Rikuo. 

 

Squatting down to cover herself and to hide her mortification, Tsurara really looked like a bunny rabbit trying to hide itself from the world. 

 

Yui chuckled lightly at Tsurara’s behavior and was about to point her similarity to an actual rabbit when suddenly, Rikuo had appeared out of nowhere. 

 

It seemed that the shock at seeing Tsurara in such a revealing outfit made Rikuo lose his control of his fear for just a split second, but that was enough to expose himself to the two female Yokai.

 

Tsurara immediately stood up to confront her master and shout at him indignantly but remembering her state of dress, her face exploded ten shades of red and she promptly fainted.

 

Yui screamed in worry for her newfound friend, but before she blinked, Rikuo had caught her in his arms and carried the now unconscious Tsurara bridal style. With his hair covering his demonic blood-red eyes, Yui couldn’t tell what emotion lied within them. Quickly sobering up and remembering that this was the new powerful leader of the Nurarihyon Clan and that she had unintentionally caused his beloved subordinate to faint, she was ready to skip out of town for another century or so. 

 

“Uh-umm... so that outfit is 50,000 yen but since the darling Tsurara in your arms there was such a charm, I’ll give it to you for half off. Scouts honor. Just make a check payable to Yui’s Fashion for Friends and Foes! Bye!” and with that Yui made it her mission to scurry out of there.

 

“Wait!” Nighttime Rikuo shouted and stopped Yui in her tracks. Darn it, she was so close to opening the door. Ice be damned. 

 

“I’ll take it.” Rikuo said —more like declared.

 

Yui gulped.

 

“I’ll take it all.” And with that Rikuo used his fear to once again cloak himself and Tsurara in invisibility to take her to her room. 

 

A smile stretched wide on her face and Yui didn’t know whether it was the clan leader turning out to be quite a hopeless romantic (and pervert) himself or the fact that she had just made her biggest sale of the century.

 

“Hire me as your wedding dress designer! I swear it’ll be unforgettable!” Yui yelled into the air, hoping that Rikuo could hear it. 

 

Rikuo smirked.

 

“I sure will.”

 

_ Tengu was searching for one of the clan’s scrolls detailing its history in Rikuo’s room. Suddenly, when he opened his Young Master’s closet doors, a huge mountain of clothes tumbled onto him. Quickly escaping to not be smothered and hurriedly trying to put his Young Master’s things back, the little crow Yokai noticed something quite strange. It was not his Young Master’s typical wardrobe. In fact, nothing about it seemed typical. There was a pale pink nurse outfit, a poofy dress with cat ears and tail, a rather short Chinese traditional dress, a kimono uniform of middle class Ojou-samas in the 20th century, and a bunny leotard, among many, many other feminine outfits.  _

 

_ “I don’t even want to know.” _

 

_ And with that, he shoved all the clothes back in there, and promptly closed the door shut. _


End file.
